we forget after a while that they aren’t the horizon, that their trees don’t go on forever, that the sky is wider than we can know.
even the full moon isn’t
where I left it
You don’t actually have to be able to see at all!
that the poems began to come without being called.
I must never forget how exhilarating it felt to find myself briefly at the head of a mob.
belongs only to those with no need for veins, like a wanderlust that starts where the highway ends.
to maximize their receptivity to the lightning of thought.
blossoms lost to the heat
in just four days